Pyrophobia
by AppleMistress
Summary: I don't wanna get burned... /Eclare  Series of One-Shots
1. Chapter 1

**|Pyrophobia|**

_I don't wanna get burned..._

*|...|*

**Chapter One**

**:Blueberry:**

* * *

**O**kay, seriously?

I'm standing in the young adults' isle in the downtown bookstore, and just as I draw my hand out to grab the next issue of my favorite vampire romance series, I notice a cheery smoothie sitting on the shelf next to it. My nose wrinkled in disgust as I stared at the trash. Some people could be so impolite and gross. Was it really that hard to toss something as simple as a foam cup into a nearby garbage can?

I glared at the smoothie for almost a minute, maybe longer. My frustration towards the dummies who just left their trash on random counters, expecting others to pick up after them reached its' peak. "Why do people do this? It's so stupid."

I stared at the red cup for a little longer, as though my glower would make it disappear completely. I could just grab my book and go—but no. Being Saint Clare, I felt obligated to go clean the mess before some unfortunate employee was forced to pick it up.

"People have no respect." I muttered under my breath, grabbing the paper cup tightly in my hand. I felt the instant need to crush the flimsy cup in my hands; but didn't, as I knew doing that would only cause some of the artificial cheery flavored liquid to stain my jacket. That'd only make my day worse.

"It was a blueberry one yesterday." I heard a semi-familiar voice say suddenly. I whirled around to face the speaker, surprised.

I knew this guy. I was sure I did. Dark hair, bottle green eyes, drives a hearse… Ah. Eli something. I didn't recall his last name, though. He was in my English class. He consistently got into trouble with Mrs. Dawes for skipping or coming into class 'fashionably late'. And he crushed my glasses with his car. I was honestly shocked to see him standing there in front of me, though.

I pressed my lips together, instantly trying to wipe the puzzled look from my face in attempt to look a little more cunning. He only smirked at my attempt.

"Fitz. He does it to piss people off." He continued, as I remained speechless. His olive orbs danced in amusement, "It's probably the only reason you'll ever see a guy like him roaming a bookstore, anyway." He shrugged his shoulders as he rolled his eyes.

I didn't say anything in reply, as I hardly even knew Fitz enough to gossip about him. Eli offered me a curious look, and continued.

"Fitz is clearly an idiot. He comes in here every afternoon." He continued to defame Fitz, his face twisting in slight irritation, "You think he'd have something better to do. The guy has no life whatsoever."

Based on his tone, I knew that Eli probably had some kind of 'bad history' with Fitz. So, deciding to speak up, I attempted to change the subject.

"You come here every day?" I asked, deciding I'd graced him the silent treatment for long enough already. I fiddled with the cup in my hands, pursing my lips as I raised a brow in interest. I knew he probably liked to read; but I had no idea why he'd spend every single afternoon in the store. I preferred the library. I'd bring my laptop to do some writing, or I'd read. The confined library was where I'd been spending several afternoons. It was very quiet compared to home, where my parents were always dueling it out. Their fighting was bothersome, and the library was a place I could really just sit back and think.

"I run into some pretty interesting people here." He responded, offering me a glance that made me think he was mocking me for being so curious. "It's not every day where you meet a girl who talks to herself."

It didn't take me long to realize he was referring to me.

"It's a sign of genius!" I defended myself instantly, quirking my head to the side as I pouted teasingly. Was he really joking with me? And was I really playing along? I was really just glad that I'd stopped him from going off on a rampage about Marcus Fitzgerald.

"It's a sign of insanity." He stated coolly, simply smirking that trademark sideways smirk of his in amusement at my facial expression.

"Well, you're not exactly what I'd call sane either." I said this in a playfully bothered tone before sticking my tongue out at him, whirling around on my heels. It would have been a perfectly fine and witty exit—if only he hadn't turned around to stand in front of me before I could storm away.

Eli took the smoothie from me. "You have no proof, Edwards." He mocked, offering me a look of triumph. He waved the smoothie around in his hand, gesturing to it. "I'll toss this for you. Go grab your cliché bloodsucker novel."

I watched him turn to leave, dumbfounded. I let a goofy grin grace my features for a split second. "Stalker." I muttered, just loud enough for him to hear a few feet away. As I turned to reenter the isle I had previously left behind, I could almost feel him smirking. Vampires in general were a touchy subject for me, I'd have to get him back for saying they were cliché at some point. But I decided to let that go for now. He was doing me a favor, wasn't he?

Although he was frustratingly mysterious and cocky, he could really make me smile.

* * *

**AN;/ Alright. So this is really just going to be a series of one-shots, just because I have a lot of random ideas that I tend to write up; and I need a place to post these ideas! Yesterday, I experienced something kind of similar... seeing a random soda cup sitting on a shelf in a store. And then the idea just sprang. I decided to write this one where it's before they became English partners, but they've already encountered a few times already. It's pretty short- I promise that my future updates will be a little more lengthy. **

**This will be mostly Eclare, though I will be writing some Fiadam (some know it as Fadam, I think... I personally like the sound of Fiadam better, though.) down the road. Some of the one-shots will be a little more angst and depressing, some will be fluffy. It all kind of depends on my mood. **

**Leave a thought or two if you have the time! Reading reviews gives me the will and motivation to update more frequently! **

**Thanks for reading.**

-_Apple_


	2. Chapter 2

**|Pyrophobia|**

_I don't wanna get burned..._

*|...|*

**Chapter Two**

**:Up: _(Part 1)_**

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**

"She's not really that bad." I countered, fiddling with the phone in my hands. I never really imagined myself defending my stepmother, but she really didn't deserve the consistent defamation she was receiving from my mother. It took me a long while to accept that my father had eyes for another woman, but really, I had nothing at all to hold against his new wife. She was a sweet woman who was widowed a few years back. She was a little more cheery and accepting than my mother when it came to bending the rules, and although she could be a little too perky for my tastes, she was too kindly to be gossiped about. My mother was being unnecessarily bitter about the situation. The divorce was their choice; if she disliked seeing my father with someone else, then maybe she should have reconsidered her reasons for arguing with him.

"Clare, that woman is too… unhinged. I can't believe your father would even consider marrying such a…" I rolled my pale blue eyes as she continued her rant.

"Mom." I cut her off with a gentle warning before sighing. "Look, it's late. I'll call you tomorrow, okay?"

"Fine, Clare." My lips formed into a thin line as I heard a buzz at the other end of the line. Reluctantly, I set the phone down, letting go of it as though it'd burned me. I knew my mom was probably going through some hard times; it was really hard to see my father start a different family without us. But if I could accept it, why couldn't she? The whole scenario was just troubling and problematic.

I looked up, only to notice my father standing in the doorway. He looked at me, his expression glazed over with tire from his long day at work. But his eyes were soft and gentle, as though he was admiring me.

"You've really grown up, Clare bear." He said, a hint of a smile quirking at the corners of his mouth as he approached me cautiously. "I know that this may not be your favorite thing ever…"

"You're not going to forget about us, are you?" I asked impulsively, the sudden paranoia from the conversation I'd had with my mother striking through me. My voice was cracked, and I feared that I was going to break down into tears. My stepmother was amiable; she wasn't 'evil' or anything. The real thing I didn't like was that we were all going in our separate directions. Darcy was technically gone after she left for Africa, Mom was living on her own, trying to find a good job, and Dad was remarrying. And I was still living at home, watching it unfold before me like a glass that was about to topple over the edge of a table. Fated to crash into a billion tiny, insignificant pieces that would later be swept away to be thrown in the trashcan.

The slight smile my father was on the verge of fell instantaneously as he processed my words. He stepped towards me, encircling me in his arms. "Oh, of course not. I would never forget about you." He said as firmly as his fatigued voice could manage. And oddly, it was very reassuring and soothing. I never deemed him the type to leave and forget, but it never hurt to hear those words from him.

I stood there, holding onto my father for a little longer, his embrace soothing the tension that had stiffened my shoulders earlier on in the evening.

I stepped back, looking at him as the slightest grin began to grace my features.

"Dad, as long as you're happy, I am too." I offered, trying to encourage him a little. "It'll take a while for me to get used to, but she's really sweet. I'm sure you'll be exultant with her…"

My father patted my cheek gently with his large, rough hand. He'd always been socially awkward, especially around me. This was one of those moments where he was speechless, but his expression sort of let me know that he appreciated what I'd said. I felt good about it, though I could also feel my mother's harsh words taunting me in the back of my head.

I kissed him on the cheek, and he ruffled my auburn curls a bit. We bid each other good night, and went our separate ways.

Of course, I hadn't completely grown up. As soon as I reached my room, I snuck out of the house. I did this every so often. I'd take my bike up to an old coffee shop—one that was a lot less popular than the Dot was. It usually stayed open all night. I found myself going there around four nights a week, just sitting, waiting for something relatively exciting to take its' toll. Of course, nothing usually happened whenever I stopped by, but it was better than sitting around all night in my bedroom with nothing to do. Plus, no one really paid enough attention to me anymore—I might as well sneak out while no one had the will to catch me in the act.

I took the long way there, peddling down the road leisurely underneath the yellow circles of light that emerged from the street lamps, enjoying the night air as it caressed my skin. The road was deserted and quiet, and although I kind of liked it, it also scared me. Though the thrill of doing something I wasn't supposed to do was much too great to resist.

Reaching my destination, I locked my bike securely in the bike rack outside the tiny café before venturing inside. Warmth greeted me willingly and the familiar scent of coffee beans filled my nostrils. I walked up to the counter, noticing the same pimple-faced teen who'd started working as an employee there sometime early last week. He was taking orders from the somewhat familiar tall boy standing in front of me.

It took me a full minute to register that it was Fitz who was standing in front of me in line when he turned around, a steaming styrofoam cup trapped in his big hands. It seemed that my being there caught him off guard as well.

"Isn't it a little too late for Saint Clare to be out and about?" he jabbed at me, narrowing his eyes. I hadn't seen him since the incident at the dance, and my heart pounded as the scene of his 'stabbing' Eli began to replay over and over again in my head.

"It's clearly none of your business." I said as sternly as I could, trying my hardest not to sound as frightened as I felt. "In fact, I'm here almost every night of the week."

He snorted obnoxiously, rolling his dark blue eyes. I felt my face heat up a little as he brushed past me, nudging my side a little in effort to spite me.

It was odd. I hadn't heard a thing about Fitz ever since the cops pulled him away after the 'stabbing' event at Vegas Night. Not that I cared much about what he'd been doing lately, it was just odd in a sense.

I didn't turn to watch him leave, hearing the chime of the bell above the door that signaled his exit. Recollecting myself, I stepped up to the counter, taking a deep breath.

I opened my mouth, but I couldn't find any words. I smiled apologetically at the impatient employee standing behind the counter. His shoulders were slumped, he was obviously tired. I couldn't help but wonder what a kid of his age was doing, working at such a late hour anyway.

"A glass of water, please?" I asked politely.

The guy behind the counter bobbed his head as he let out a grunt in response.

I was really craving coffee. But I'd asked for water instead. Why did I do that? I pursed my lips, my thoughts of seeing Fitz overwhelming me to an uncomfortable extent. I was whisked away from my deepening thoughts as the cashier slid a bottle of water across the counter, requesting a dollar and seventy-five cents.

I fished the money out of my wallet and handed it over to him, took my bottle, and found my regular booth in the back of the café.

I sunk into the worn seat. It wasn't the most comfortable place to sit in the world, but it was soothing. This booth was the place I'd just sit and think. Sometimes I'd bring my notebook and write until the early hours of the morning. I usually stayed out way past my curfew, but I haven't been caught yet, so it was just a continuous habit.

Today, though, instead of being able to think of soothing things, Fitz was there. The tall adolescent who'd haunted my thoughts the week after Vegas Night. I was honestly surprised to see him, as I hadn't heard a single thing about him for the longest time. Would he be back in school soon? Or was he attending another school someplace else? These questions were bothering me, and I was willing to do just about anything to get him off my mind.

I tried to unscrew the cap from my water bottle, but it was screwed on pretty tightly. In fact, I couldn't even pull it off. I tried to get it off until my hands were burning and sore, frustrated. So, impulsively thinking, I pulled out my phone and texted Eli.

"I need help with something. Are you free right now?"

Satisfied, I hit send.

* * *

**AN;/ I've been meaning to update, but I just haven't gotten around to writing a whole lot lately. I have a long Thanksgiving break coming up, though, so I should have more time for updates soon. This chapter has a second part, and it'll be in Eli's POV. So yeah...**

**Reviews inspire me! I won't beg for them, but reading one or two of 'em is always kind of nice. ;)**

**Thanks for reading! **

**-Apple**


	3. Chapter 3

**|Pyrophobia|**

_I don't wanna get burned..._

*|...|*

**Chapter Three**

**:Up: _(Part 2)_**

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* * *

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"So…" I started, trying my best to contain my bewilderment, "You called me all the way here at one in the morning to help you unscrew a water bottle cap?"

Clare nodded meekly in reply, and I sighed. "Edwards, you really worry me sometimes."

She smiled an innocent smile, blue eyes smoldering with an apologetic glint. Although she may have been tired, I could tell that she was holding something back. Clare was a terrible liar after all, and it didn't take a scientist to figure out that something was bothering her.

"It's stuck. I've been working at it for fifteen minutes straight." She informed me, holding her palms out for me to see. Her smooth hands were painted with a faint vermillion color, and a blister appeared to be forming on her right palm. I shook my head in disbelief, trying to enclose my amusement at the situation. I let out an airy laugh, and she fiddled with the bottle in her hands nervously, still smiling.

"Alright, alright. Hand it over to me." I offered coolly. She gratefully slid the bottle across the table, and I took hold of it when it was in reach. I positioned my hand over the cap, bracing myself, as I knew it'd be hard to open the first time based on how beat-up Clare's poor hands looked. It came off surprisingly easily with a gentle pop, and to my complete hilarity, Clare's eyes bulged with astonishment.

"How…" she breathed, staring at the bottle for a moment before looking up at me. She laughed tenderly before shifting her gaze over to the side. "Um… I totally loosened that up for you. Yeah."

A smug look crossed my features as I handed the bottle over to her. "That was a little too easy, Edwards." My amusement clearly irritated her, but we always played around like this. She never took these things seriously.

She snorted, but wore a grin nonetheless. I watched for a moment, the scenario we were caught in dawned on me. What was Clare doing in a place like this so late anyways? She'd texted me with the directions of this deserted café, and told me to help her. At first, I was worried. It was a relief to know she was okay, but if she was here so late, there had to be some kind of reason behind it. She tended to do outlandish things when something disturbed or inspired her, after all.

"Since I did you a favor, would you mind me asking you something?" I asked, glancing from the water bottle to Clare. I watched her gnaw at her lip, as though she was anticipating this subject to come up. And since she appeared panicky, I took this as a bad thing.

"No, go ahead." Her voice was ductile, her gaze pinpointed at the bottle she fiddled around with in her hands. She swallowed. "Ask away."

I watched her for a moment, a little alarmed. "What are you doing here so late, Clare? I'm sure you're out way past your curfew." I paused before continuing, "Is something going on at home? Don't hesitate to talk to me.'

Clare and I have been through a lot, and we've built up a lot of trust over time. I told her everything, and she told me everything. Although sometimes she, being the selfless girl she was, sometimes hid her problems away from the world to keep people from worrying about her. I wanted to be there for her, but it was hard to do so when she wouldn't tell me what was wrong.

It took her a moment to collect her thoughts, and I gave her all the time she needed. A minute or two passed us by before she finally began to speak.

"Well, I've been coming out here for a while now. A little before dad remarried, actually." She explained softly, looking up at me warily. "No one ever notices; I just come out here to think sometimes."

This surprised me. Just the thought of Clare sneaking out in the middle of the night surprised me. But knowing now that she'd been coming out here for a while was almost unbelievable. I was shocked to the point where I didn't know what to say.

She took my silence as a signal to continue her explanation. "My mom calls all the time… She's been really bitter towards everyone lately. I feel like her negativity is getting the best of me." She looked so pained as she spoke; I wanted nothing more than to hold her, to wipe that exasperated expression away from her features. "My whole family is really falling to pieces now."

I took her hand from across the table, and gave it a light squeeze. "Clare, you're just being paranoid." As much as I felt the need to lecture her about what terrible things could happen to a girl like her in the middle of the night, comforting her always came first. "Your folks seem to be really good people. Even though things are changing, it doesn't necessarily mean you're losing them."

Clare pulled her hand away before she crossed her arms around herself, convincing me that my words weren't completely reassuring. I frowned slightly, missing the warmth of her hand against mine. "I know that…" she started, pressing her lips into a thin line as she looked away, "But… I'm still hurting. I'm trying to accept what's happening… I really am."

I nodded at her, understanding. I've been through quite a lot of change myself; it was hard to accept it with open arms sometimes. Suddenly, her eyes met mine. She appeared a little determined and tense at the same time.

"That's not what's bothering me right now, though. There's another reason why I asked you to come…"

I quirked an eyebrow in confusion; watching Clare carefully, wishing that her expression would give her thoughts away. To my disappointment, her face was unreadable. What else did she have to say? What could have happened?

"Alright. Lay it on me." I replied, sucking in a breath as I gave her my full attention. A few awkward moments slipped past us, and it seemed as though she was trying her hardest to figure out how she was going to phrase what she was thinking into words. I grew impatient with anticipation. "Spit it out, Clare." I said these words gently, though. I didn't want to rush her into something, especially when she was going through such a hard time.

"F-Fitz is back." She stuttered. I froze, and she nodded slowly as the realization came across my features, as though to confirm her words were true.

Surprisingly, I was a little calmer than I would have expected myself to be about this. But how on earth would Clare know this before I did? "And you know this… how?"

"I ran into him a few minutes before I texted you. He was in front of me in line…" she gestured to the check out area near the front of the café with her hand before anxiously toying around with the bottle in her hands again. "But really, I know just as much as you do about this. Do you think he's gonna come back to Degrassi?"

I shook my head; this information was a little too much to take in at once. "I don't see why they'd let him back in." I started before shrugging my shoulders, "Who knows? I guess we'll have to wait and see."

"Yeah."

We sat there in silence for a long while, and I could tell we were both thinking back to what occurred the last time we had seen the tall bully. The silence wasn't exactly discomfited, though. The time that went by felt surreal, and oddly relaxing. Just sitting there, across from Clare was consoling enough.

She coughed a little, as though to get my attention. I looked up at her, and she watched me with stern and somewhat concerned eyes.

"Promise me you won't fight if he does come back?" her tone sounded vexed. I could hardly imagine how much I scarred her on Vegas Night—it took three weeks of her ignoring my phone calls to notice my huge mistakes. And the last thing I wanted to do now was make her worry, especially when her family was crumbling around her.

As much as I hated letting bullies get away with what they did, I needed to give Clare what she needed right now. Reassurance.

"I promise." I told her steadfastly, lacing her pallid fingers with mine, "I won't fight."

She smiled at me feebly. Almost simultaneously, we both leaned in closer, and her lips brushed against mine. The kiss was short and sweet, but still overwhelmingly satisfying in a sense. The exhilaration from the very instant ran through my blood, and for just a single moment, I forgot about the thickening problems that were floating around in the air above us.

Clare pulled away tenderly, though still kept her face close to mine.

"Good." She murmured as she brushed the tip of her nose against mine, a grin gracing her beautiful features.

Reassurance. That's something we both needed.

* * *

**AN:/ I hope this looks alright! I'm planning on writing another one-shot I've had in mind sometime after the episode tonight. Who else is excited for the big finale? I think I'm anticipating the trailer more than the episode itself, sadly enough. Nonetheless, I'm real excited! **

**Anyway, if you found any errors in this, please bring them to my attention! I really want to improve as I gradually write more, and I'd really appreciate some feedback if you have any to give! **

**Thanks so much for reading! **

**-Apple**


	4. Chapter 4

**|Pyrophobia|**

_I don't wanna get burned..._

*|...|*

**Chapter Four**

**:Kisses Are Gross:**

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Clare adjusted her glasses, scrunching her nose slightly in disgust as she watched the protagonists of the movie depicted on the television screen kiss. She hid her face in her pillow.

"Gross."

Darcy turned around from where she was sitting cross-legged on the floor of their bedroom to give her little sister a questioning look.

"They're just kissing, Clare. A kiss is simple and affectionate." The tan brunette explained in a know-it-all tone. "There's nothing gross about a kiss."

Clare shuddered, lifting her head to look at the screen skeptically.

"I don't think there's anything affectionate about pressing your lips against someone else's. It's weird."

Darcy rolled her brown eyes at her sister's retort, letting out a sigh as she turned to face the screen. "Only you would say that, Clare."

The younger girl opened her mouth to reply, but never got the chance to do so.

"Darcy, Clare! Wash up, dinner's just about ready!" their mother's voice called. The TV was turned off, and the sisters padded their way down the stairs.

* * *

"So, what'd you think of the movie, Clare?" Eli smirked his trademark smirk, holding the innocent brunette walking alongside him a little closer.

"It was way too gory. I don't know what's so entertaining about watching hundreds of zombies feast on human flesh and brains." Clare shuddered, shaking her head in disbelief as she closed her eyes. She held her queasy stomach with one hand as she opened her wide set of pale blue eyes once again. She let a small smile quirk at her faintly glossed lips.

Eli looked away from her for a moment, still wearing an expression that was as smug as ever. "Says the girl who enjoys watching sparkling bloodsuckers."

The brunette rolled her eyes, whacking her opinionated companion on the arm playfully.

"Sorry to disappoint you, but Twilight isn't really that gory."

"Oh, that's right. Twilight's a total chick flick." Eli mocked her before sticking out his tongue and faking a gagging noise. He let out a laugh afterwards.

Clare narrowed her eyes slightly, giving him another gentle swat on the arm. "Shut up." She said playfully in defense of her favorite series, "You have no right to judge; you've never even seen the movie."

"Is that an invitation, Edwards?" he questioned playfully, raising his eyebrows for emphasis.

"That depends. Are you going to badmouth the movie as we watch it, or are you going to pay attention?"

"The answer to that question is simple, Clare. If the movie's as terrible as everyone says it is, I can't make any promises." Eli smirked, anticipating a heated retort.

Clare pursed her lips, inwardly giving up on this conversation. There was no way she'd be able to change Eli's opinion, there was no use fighting a battle she couldn't win. She sighed, and silence passed between the two for a moment or two.

She yawned, covering her mouth with the back of her hand as she rested her head on Eli's shoulder, the rough material of his black jacket rubbed against her cheek in a soothing way.

"Hey, don't fall asleep on me here, Edwards." Eli chuckled, pulling her a little closer. She smiled for a brief moment, wishing that they could walk for the rest of the night. The brunette felt a surge of disappointment as she noticed her house was only a few paces away.

Clare looked up at her house as they came to a stop in front of it, sighing as her blue eyes glistened with discontent. "Home sweet home." She murmured under her breath in an unenthusiastic tone.

Eli looked down at her, understanding and concerned. "Are you okay?" he asked in a low voice, watching her carefully.

"Yeah, yeah. I'm fine." She said quietly, offering him a feeble smile. She turned on her heel, walking slowly towards her house.

Eli hesitated for a moment before pulling on the brunette's arm, spinning her around to face him in one swift and casual movement. He wrapped his arms around her waist and planted a firm kiss on her lips.

She was surprised at first, but then eagerly returned the gesture.

After several minutes, they simultaneously pulled away, panting for breath.

"Wow." Was all she could say as she smiled up at him.

"G'night, Clare." He smirked knowingly, ruffling a hand through her auburn curls before turning to leave.

She watched his walking form disappear down the street before turning back to her house, her bad mood completely diminished. She let out a giddy laugh before shaking her head and reaching for the doorknob. As soon as she opened the door, she was encircled in familiar arms. Her blue eyes met brown ones—Darcy's.

"Darce?" Clare's voice was small, surprised, and confused. A grin crossed her features, "You're home!"

Darcy merely nodded excitedly; stepping out of the doorframe to look in the direction Eli had taken only a few minutes before. She raised a brow skeptically at Clare.

"I thought you said kisses were gross."

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**This is super short and I don't like the way it looks; but I wanted to update, since I haven't in a long time. I was watching the marathon; and the scenes with Clare when she was younger. I can imagine her thinking that kissing and boys were gross. So I just wanted to give this a try. **

**Not much more to say. Leave a review if you've got the time or will. Thanks for reading.**

**-Apple**


	5. Chapter 5

**|Pyrophobia|**

_I don't wanna get burned..._

*|...|*

**Chapter Five**

**:Killer:**

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She found it hard to look at the sky when it rained. The tiny drops would plummet into her eyes, therefore causing her to squint in an uncomfortable way.

Then again, looking up at the sky soothed her. She believed someone might have been up there, looking down on her. Watching after her. At least… that's what she wanted to believe.

There were three more murders this week. Officers and investigators had yet to catch the culprit—though it is assumed that one single person committed all three crimes. The thought was rather disturbing. The naive side of her was appalled that some human being had the will to kill someone else. She never ever hated someone so much that she wanted them dead. Never in her life.

It probably wasn't safe for her to be standing out in the open with a criminal on the loose. Probably. Especially on a rainy, foggy, gloomy day like this. The setting was just perfect for a gory horror movie scene.

So why? She found herself thinking. Why was she taking such a bold risk? She didn't need to prove herself in any way or another. She didn't need fresh air.

Does everything need a motive? Or can you just do whatever pops into your mind whenever you want to—without needing any reason. This is probably why it was so hard for her to answer this question.

"Why are you here?"

"I don't know." She answers.

"Clare." He's out of breath, absolutely exasperated as he runs a hand through his damp, raven hair. He looks confused for a moment, and then he looks angry. "Are you trying to get yourself killed? Do you know what you're doing to me?"

"You're out here too." She points out dully.

His angry expression softens just a little as he tries desperately to search her blue eyes for a clue of her motives. He looks disappointed when he fails to read her mind, directing his olive green eyes at the dewy blades of grass as a result.

"I was worried about you." he says this a little gentler than he did before, "Why are you outside, Clare."

"I don't have a reason." She looked away glumly, chewing at her lower lip.

"Yes you do, Clare. You're not usually like this unless there's a reason behind it." He pauses, looking at her carefully, "Is it Fitz?"

She glares at him. "Eli…" her voice is tense.

He holds his hands up in surrender for a moment, pushing the thought of accusing his enemy away from his mindscape.

"Please. Just tell me what's on your mind."

She sighs, stuffing her wet, pallid palms into her jacket pockets, closing her eyes tightly as she did so. He was there for her, like he always was. The thought was slightly refreshing… And yet, at the same time, it wasn't.

"I was… I was wondering if… if my mom would notice." Her voice trailed off, she sounded weak.

He narrowed his eyes. "So you're risking your own life to test her love for you? Clare, that's—"

"Selfish? I know." Her voice is harsher now. "That may not even be the reason I came out here. I just did. I don't know the reasoning behind it… So don't ask me anymore."

He stares at her in desperation. Something was troubling her. But nothing would help if they remained outside like this—they needed to get somewhere safer.

"Come on. I'll drive, and you can talk when you're ready. We'll keep going—as far as you want to. Away from here. We can get away from the world for a little while." He suggests this with a slight twinge of hope in his tone.

She opens her eyes, looking at him with gratitude. He cared so much about her—why was she making things so difficult for him? Tucking an auburn stand of her hair behind her ear, she bit her lower lip and nodded her head.

"O-okay…" she agrees, walking towards him cautiously.

Then there was a rustling sound in the bushes. Breathing. Clicking sounds. Clanking sounds. More rustling.

Silence.

"Run!" he finds his voice, shoving her roughly—as far as he can in order to get her away from whatever was lurking in the bushes.

More rustling…

* * *

**This might be continued... I'm not sure yet, though. xP**

**-Apple**


	6. Chapter 6

**|Pyrophobia|**

_I don't wanna get burned..._

*|...|*

**Chapter Six**

**:Unresolvable Conflict:**

* * *

"Where does it hurt?"

He gestured to his arm, watching her carefully. She lifted his sleeve and studied his wound vigilantly as she chewed at her lower lip, feeling as though her knees would buckle at any given moment.

Clare Edwards let out an exasperated sigh as she reached for her first aid kit. She clicked the tiny white box open before rummaging through it to find an appropriate bandage.

She rubbed the wound gently with Vaseline before dressing it fittingly with the bandage. She avoided his cringes of pain as she applied a little bit of pressure on his injury. Luckily he didn't struggle that much against her touch.

"There. Just avoid moving your arm for a few days and you'll be fine." Clare evaded his jade-colored eyes, turning hastily to leave. She made a move for the door—and was stopped. He grabbed her arm with a firm, but gentle grip.

"Don't leave, Clare." His voice was low and fatigued.

She froze, surprised.

"Clare, I'm sorry."

Clare closed her eyes as they moistened with tears that threatened to fall. She couldn't face him. Not now.

"You made a promise, Eli." She stuttered, trying effortlessly to break free from his grasp. "I… I thought you… I thought…"

She sucked in a sharp breath, unable to finish her sentence correctly.

The teary brunette turned around to face him, forcing him to let go of her arm before it could twist in an uncomfortable direction. Paying no regard to his injury, she encircled him in her arms, holding on tightly as she pressed her face against his chest.

"When I heard what happened…" she took a few ragged breaths and he held onto her tighter, "I was so scared."

"He said he was going to hurt Adam…" Eli paused for a few seconds, looking down at her as he teased one of her lively curls with his forefinger, "And you."

"Fitz uses those excuses to get a reaction out of you, Eli. You have to learn to ignore him…" She pulled away, wiping at her eyes with the backsides of her hands. She tried her hardest to glare at him—but really, she had no reason to. His gesture and his thoughts were in the right place, no matter how much they incensed and frightened her.

"Listen to me. I can't just stand by while he's boasting on about hurting you both." He defended himself, "It wouldn't be right to just let him get away with it."

"So getting into a fist fight with him is going to make things better?" she replied rather scathingly, turning her head in order to look away from him. "By fighting him, things are only going to get worse. And one day, this conflict is going to blow up… if you don't stop it now, you might lose something important."

"Then what do you suggest I do, Clare?"

She was silent.

He stared down at her as a bitter stillness engulfed the room.

"It's so hard, Clare." Eli spoke up suddenly, surprising her. "I'd do anything to protect you. Please don't leave."

She smiled grimly. "I'm not going anywhere. But you need to settle this conflict somehow."

He sighed gently, running his pale hand through her curls once more.

This was truly an unresolvable conflict. For some reason though, whatever the ups or downs, they were both willing to keep going.

* * *

**This is so short... I hate myself for making this so short. Ah well. I was bored, and I felt the need to update something. **

**I'm honestly wondering how the whole Fitz returns subject is going to be depicted. I'm excited for Friday, since we'll get to see a preview regarding the scenario. **

**-Apple**


	7. Chapter 7

**|Pyrophobia|**

_I don't wanna get burned..._

*|...|*

**Chapter Seven**

**:The Note:**

**

* * *

**

When she smacked him, it sounded like a dangerous clap of thunder.

Eli stared down at her in disbelief, perplexed by her sudden strength. His heart was caught in his throat, his olive eyes wide with a balanced blend of hurt and astonishment.

Clare's shoulders shook uncontrollably, the false suicide note rattling in a rhythmic pattern with the heavy rain. She'd stopped crying—but it was quite obvious that she was still upset.

They stared at each other for a long time after she smacked him. No sounds but the pelting of the rain. There were no words to be said. They both knew that they'd killed the relationship they once had through misunderstandings and problematic occurrences. And now they were faced with the breaking point.

"I only asked for some space." Her small voice cracked and she hung her head. "I… I never wanted… wanted to break up." She chocked on her words and he could tell she was crying again.

Eli opened his mouth to say something consoling, but no sound came. It killed him mentally to see her so torn up about something. And knowing he hurt her made this guilty pain sting even more.

"A-And this?" Clare lifted her downcast gaze, raising the suicide note. She brought it out before her, scanning each sloppy letter on the damp, bleak scrap of notebook paper. She swallowed, trying to prevent any more sobs from escaping her grasp. "None of it is real?"

"It's not real." Eli replied quickly in a low voice, suddenly realizing how crazed he was when he wrote the letter. Who in the right mind would do something like that?

Her shoulders sunk and she bit her lip. They stood like this for another short while.

"How could you do this to me?" she whispered, her eyes boring into him like gentle knives. "I thought you'd be dead when I found you. Was this really only a ploy for attention?"

Clare let go of the letter, letting it drift to the floorboards below. She wrapped her arms around herself for comfort.

Eli closed his eyes, unable to look the brunette in the eye any longer.

"Clare… I'm messed up. I messed up. The letter… I just felt like I'd…" he couldn't find the right words. He took a moment to compose his thoughts in his head before piping up again. "I felt like I'd die without you. Today just so happens to be the anniversary of Julia's death… My head, it's all messed up."

He paused for a moment. "I'm sorry, Clare."

She oddly felt sympathy for him the moment these words had come from her mouth. She felt it. She knew what it was like to at least think that a loved one was dead. After she read that note, she felt like she experienced it firsthand. And although she wasn't the biggest fan of Julia, she could almost understand why Eli might have done what he did. She'd been ignoring him until she read that false suicide note that he'd left for her. He needed a comforting embrace, company. And these were things that she could easily offer him.

Clare stumbled forward before pulling her arms around him. She buried her head in his black, slightly damp jacket. His scent was intoxicating.

"You're a jerk and you need help." Her words were garbled and muffled in his jacket. "But thinking that I lost you made me realize how much I love you."

Eli blinked twice in bewilderment and revelation before slowly wrapping his arms around her, a warm feeling replacing the sadness and tension that had engulfed the room before.

Clare was so forgiving, he knew that very well. Especially after she forgave Fitz for what he did on Vegas Night. But when she forgave him for this, it truly perplexed him. Knowing that she cared was all he needed.

She slowly pulled away, looking up at him carefully. "I'm sorry for the way I acted." She said this seriously. "But you need help. Help that I can't provide."

Eli looked away, inwardly knowing that she was right. But he didn't like being spoken to like a child.

Her blue eyes softened a little. "Eli." She gently placed her hand where she had smacked him before, turning his head to look at her. "I'll be here for you. But lately you've been scaring me, and I think it'd be best for both our relationship and you that you find some assistance."

"I haven't been myself, I admit it. I'll get some help… I promise." Eli had trouble saying this. He knew something about his personality was a little off, though he hadn't even realized it was really happening until now.

"Good." Clare's words were tender as she offered him a smile—something that he hadn't seen from her in a long while.

* * *

**AN;/ Yeah... So I watched a movie about death, I watched a movie about suicide, and I saw the new summaries for the Drop The World episode. That's pretty much why I wrote this. I personally am not the biggest fan of Eli's sudden change, but then I also understand that he's going through a lot. And I'm not beating Clare up for wanting space, considering that his problems are a boulder too huge for her alone to carry. She's so young, she won't know how to properly help him. But I gave this a kind of fluffy/happy ending, considering I'm still an Eclare fan, even when they're going through hardships. And hey, we always have hope for the future. Although I have a feeling that their relationship will end, most Degrassi characters pick up second relationships over time. Well, that's all for my little rant on the subject. **

**Thanks for reading!**

_-Apple_


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